


What They Left Behind

by acesandapricots



Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, Cardassian Anatomy, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesandapricots/pseuds/acesandapricots
Summary: A series of short vignettes of Julian and Garak’s relationship on DS9. | They explored each other’s bodies in soft sheets and dark alcoves, in private moments stolen from official duties and in lieu of planned dinners. Eventually they began exploring each other’s kinks, the way Julian would beg to be bound and powerless, the way Garak would shyly ask for silk and sweet kisses. They told themselves that no one knew. For a while that was, indeed, the truth. Julian could keep one more secret, one far less explosive, and Garak’s life was a mystery only Julian was allowed to unravel, piece by piece, question by question, kiss by kiss.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958257
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	What They Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Kinktober 2020 challenge (prompt: handjobs... of which there is precisely _one_ in this fic, but I needed a prompt fill!).
> 
> My everlasting thanks to [whitmans_kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitmans_kiss/) for beta reading! "Silk and sweet kisses" for Garak is for you.
> 
> Details of Garak's Cardassian anatomy taken from tinsnip's "[Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719479)."

Garak was buried to the hilt in Julian’s ass, his lover’s walls hot and tight and clenching around his prUt.

All Julian could do was take it, and he lay there whimpering, moaning, his knees pressed into the cold bed.

Julian sobbed as Garak came, the alien spunk pulsing inside him and filling him up. Garak reached one long, gray hand around and grasped Julian’s cock. With two quick pumps, Julian too was coming, spraying his ejaculate across the clean sheets.

**=/\=**

Julian fucked Garak the next day, trapping the tailor inside a fitting room after the shop closed and pinning him against the wall. Agile fingers dipped into his ajan, teasing and testing, and before Garak could evert Julian had slid himself inside.

**=/\=**

They weren’t equitable in their trades. There was no tit-for-tat, no me-then-you. It was all about the pleasure of the moment, the control of the room, the desire to please and be pleased and the myriad possibilities of alien bodies - tongues and scales and cocks and holes.

They explored each other’s bodies in soft sheets and dark alcoves, in private moments stolen from official duties and in lieu of planned dinners. Eventually they began exploring each other’s kinks, the way Julian would beg to be bound and powerless, the way Garak would shyly ask for silk and sweet kisses.

They told themselves that no one knew. For a while that was, indeed, the truth. Julian could keep one more secret, one far less explosive, and Garak’s life was a mystery only Julian was allowed to unravel, piece by piece, question by question, kiss by kiss.

**=/\=**

A quick handjob in the Infirmary, the night brightness of the station perfect for Garak’s Cardassian eyesight. A dark corner, a high-pitched whimper, the slap of wet skin, an unseen smile marking a stolen moment.

**=/\=**

The wetness of an aroused ajan spilling across Julian’s face, his tongue lapping at the crease where Garak’s prUt emerged from the slit, scaly gray hands clenching around empty air, a strip of fabric clenched between teeth, muffling sounds of pleasure.

**=/\=**

Jadzia noticed first. The way Julian’s face would brighten when Garak walked into the room, the slight hitch in his step on days after he cancelled on O’Brien’s holodeck adventures. She didn’t say anything to her friends in Ops, but she did quietly gift Julian a bottle of kanar “for a special occasion.”

When she found out, Kira was furious. Miles was, initially, disgusted. Both of them came around eventually, with enough time to observe the changes in their friend’s mood and enough lectures from Dax.

When Sisko learned - from an off-hand comment by Quark - he was thoroughly unsurprised. It’s about time, he thought to himself. But it had already been a year.

None of them talked to Julian about it directly - and they _definitely_ did not speak to Garak. Julian would tell them when he was ready. Or so they hoped.

**=/\=**

Julian didn't wear a collar often, but when he did, he gave in completely. Either it was a preventable death in the Infirmary or a lingering war wound giving an officer trouble… and he would step into Garak's quarters and close the soft leather around his neck and wait for someone else to make the hard decisions.

When Garak would come home, he would sometimes tease Julian, sometimes torture him with pleasure; or sometimes he would simply fuck Julian, long and slow and satisfying, his fingers curled around the dark brown leather wrapped around his neck.

**=/\=**

They didn't talk about it, didn't talk about how they felt, what they were, to each other. 

They just let themselves feel, let themselves fuck, let themselves fall into the pattern of secrets and pleasures and even, sometimes, sharp, inviting, physical pains.

**=/\=**

Garak discovered he loved to look at Julian wrapped in silk and satin. He delved deep into the cultural databases to find patterns and instructions, and Julian would wake in the morning to discreet packages containing corsets and bodysuits and garter belts.

Julian never hesitated to wear the gifts, enjoying the feel of the fabric against his skin and the darkening of Garak’s pupils when he looked at his lover, decorated in his confections. The lingerie never lasted long.

**=/\=**

Eventually, they talked about it, about themselves - frankly, openly, honestly, leaving all the lies behind. They talked not about pasts, but about futures. They spoke of oceans and deserts and war, of hopes and institutions and personal responsibility. They spoke, too, of love.

**=/\=**

The last time they fucked on the station, they did it without accoutrements or scripts. They fell softly together, face to face, Garak's prUt hot in Julian's ass and the doctor's hard cock trapped between their stomachs. They rocked together, sharing sloppy kisses, hands tracing sensitive scales and puckering nipples, building a wave of sensation within and between their bodies.

They came at the same time, Garak’s hand pumping Julian’s cock to completion as he spilled into the doctor’s ass. They curled together in the sticky sheets, naked and warm, and slept in one, tangled mass of gray and gold limbs, not daring to let the other go, even in dreams.

**=/\=**

Maybe, someday, they would come back together on a hot, arid planet slowly rebuilding itself after the devastation of war and loss. Maybe they would build a life not out of lies and secrets but out of hopes and commitments and lasting love.

Maybe, when each flew away from Deep Space Nine for the final time, one runabout heading for Earth and the other for Cardassia, each left a piece of their own hearts behind.


End file.
